Tell Me No Truths

by Gill Vickery

  Jade wrapped her arms round her knees and felt the sun gently warm her skin as she sat on the stone steps of the loggia running down one side of the Piazza. The square was already full of day-trippers admiring the sculptures and the fountain, taking photographs of the palazzo and the horse-drawn carriages. She and Amber were out of the tourists’ way and only a stone lion looked down on them as they pored over the information from the tourist office.

  ‘It’s all here!’ Jade said. ‘The names Nonno told us about – the Rondine river, the Piazza della Fontana . . .’ The names brought back memories in a rush – Nonno’s beloved voice telling them stories of his orphaned childhood in the little town where he grew up – Mum giving way, as she always did, letting Nonno tell them ‘just one more story’ before bedtime.

  ‘Now we’ve sorted out the buses we can go when we like,’ Amber said.

  ‘I’m worried about getting Mum and Dad to leave us alone for long enough.’

  ‘We’re alone now.’

  ‘Only till lunchtime. We can’t do everything we want in half days – look how Dad wanted us to stay together today. And we’ll have to go out with them sometimes or they’ll get suspicious if we keep disappearing for no reason.’ Why didn’t that cross their minds at home when they made their plans? It was so obvious now they were here.

  ‘Think of something we can do in Florence they don’t want to do but they don’t mind us doing,’ Amber said, as if Jade hadn’t been worrying away at that ever since the weakness of their plan had dawned on her.

  ‘It’ll have to be educational,’ Jade said.

  ‘OK – what?’

  Jade had no idea.

  A shadow fell over her. ‘Hi.’

  Jade squinted up, shading her eyes. ‘Hi, Nico, what’re you doing here?’

  ‘We’ve got tickets for the Uffizi gallery, just down this arcade.’ Nico waved down the length of the loggia.

  ‘You’re going to an art gallery?’ The horrified scorn in Amber’s voice made it sound like Nico was going to an abattoir to watch the mass slaughter of baby animals. Jade kicked her surreptitiously, warning her to shut up; she’d had an idea that would solve all their problems and she didn’t want Amber sabotaging it.

  ‘I remember – you told us yesterday you like art,’ she said to Nico. ‘So do I – can we come with you, to see the pictures?’

  ‘Not without tickets, unless you don’t mind queuing. See that line there? Stretching all the way down to the river and back? That’s the queue for the Uffizi.’

  ‘No chance!’ Amber said.

  ‘Nico!’ Jade saw Hattie waving from the other end of the loggia.

  ‘Sorry,’ Nico said, ‘I can’t wait. Mum’s on edge – James doesn’t want to go to the gallery.’

  ‘Why don’t they split up then?’ Amber said. Jade kicked her again.

  ‘Can you get me some books and cards and stuff?’ she asked Nico. ‘Then at least I can read up.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  Jade gave Nico a bunch of Euro notes. ‘It’s for a project. We need loads.’

  Nico tucked the money into a wallet he fished from another pocket in his long black coat. ‘What are you interested in most?’

  Across the square the gigantic statue of David looked at Jade. It was one of the few pieces of art she recognised. She even knew who the sculptor was. He was famous. ‘Michelangelo,’ she said.

  ‘OK. You might want to try the Accademia gallery for information as well, and the Casa Buonarotti.’

  ‘We’ll do that.’

  ‘Nico!’ Hattie’s voice rang down the loggia again.

  ‘I’d better go. See you later and give you the cards?’

  ‘Sure. But – don’t tell anyone what you’re doing for us will you?’ Jade said.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Tell you after.’

  ‘Nico!’ Hattie’s voice was shrill.

  ‘See you.’ Nico tramped away.

  ‘What was that all about? You’re not interested in art,’ Amber said.

  ‘Yes I am. We’re going to explore Florence discovering stuff about Michelangelo. It’s for coursework.’

  ‘We’re not doing him in Art.’

  ‘We are now.’

  ‘We’re not and even if we were I’m not working on holiday. Why should I?’

  ‘To keep Mum and Dad happy like we were talking about, right? Nico can get evidence to convince them we’ve been to galleries and palaces and museums but really we’ll be going to the Villa dei Fiori. Simple.’

  ‘OK,’ Amber said slowly. ‘What if Nico doesn’t want to do it?’

  Jade stretched, raising her arms as if she were reaching greedily for more sun. ‘I think he will – he’s nice.’

  Amber rolled her eyes at Jade. ‘If you say so.’

  ‘I do.’ Jade lowered her arms and leaned them on her knees. ‘Anyway, don’t forget, he wants us to keep his secret.’

  Amber understood that. She smiled wickedly and nodded. Jade hoped for Nico’s sake that he kept his part of the bargain. Amber hated people who broke their promises.

  CHAPTER V

  NICO SCUFFED SULLENLY along a brown corridor in the Uffizi, staring through the wide windows at the river Arno curdling its brown way along the far bank. Behind him, Mum muttered into her mobile at the muppet James who’d decided to go back to Dischi Norberti. Far away, nestling among trees on top of a hill basking in the sunshine, was the little black and white church of San Miniato. It was so ridiculously magical that Nico instantly felt lighter, as though he’d leaped out of his boots and gone barefoot.

  Mum squeaked into the mobile, ‘If that’s what you want, James, that’s fine.’

  Nico ground his teeth. If Mum didn’t let go of James, Nico might just have to kill them both to get a bit of peace and quiet. He was nearly at the room; the one he ached to see and he didn’t want the experience spoiled. Mum put the mobile away. ‘We’re meeting James for lunch,’ she said.

  ‘OK.’

  ‘I’d still have liked him to share this experience with us,’ Hattie said.

  ‘You can’t force people to like what they don’t.’

  ‘I suppose not. James is lovely but I didn’t realise he doesn’t like art at all. He never said.’

  Nico knew it wouldn’t do any good to remind her that the main purpose of this trip was to find out what the three of them had in common and what they hadn’t and whether they could cope with the differences. ‘Have you got the book?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course.’ It was in her bag, all marked up with comments from the Reading Group.

  Amber opened her sparkly new notebook and balanced it on her knees. ‘Where did he say those other Michelangelo places were?’

  ‘Casa Buonarotti and the Accademia,’ Jade said.

  Amber’s pink pen scribbled busily. ‘I don’t know how you remember all that stuff.’

  ‘It’s a gift,’ Jade said. And another difference between us. She watched the crowds while Amber wrote. The piazza was more packed than ever. How many people flowed through it in a day, a month, a year? Did they feel as amazed as she did by what they saw? What was it about this city that made her ache with a strange kind of longing?

  Amber finished writing. ‘That’s a start. One – project: the life and work of Michelangelo. Two – places to visit’. She chewed the end of her pen. ‘D’you really think Nico’s going to back us up?’

  ‘Probably. Like I said, he’s nice and anyway, he’ll enjoy the research.’ In her mind’s eye she saw Nico’s kohl-rimmed eyes glowing as he talked about art. She nudged her sister. ‘Get writing again – I’ve had another idea.’

  ‘What?’

  Jade told her.

  As Nico and his mother arrived at Room 14, a group of Japanese tourists filed out of one door and a group of Americans out of the other
. Amazingly, Nico and Mum had the picture to themselves. Nico gazed at the painted figures in their enchanted woodland glade while Mum softly read out the passage from The Shattered Mirror that they both knew almost by heart: ‘Commissario Alessandro Lupo knew as much about Botticelli’s Primavera as anyone and more than most. He knew that the picture is painted in tempera on board; that it is over three metres long and two metres high; that it depicts – from right to left – Zephyr in pursuit of the nymph Chloris, Flora the goddess of spring, Venus the goddess of love, the three graces and Mercury the messenger of the gods, all set in a grove containing over 500 species of plants. He also knew that it was connected in some way with the deaths of at least five people and was probably going to be responsible for more to come.’

  ‘It’s incredible, Mum,’ Nico said as his mother closed the book. He’d dreaded being somehow disappointed in the picture when he saw it in real life but he wasn’t: the faces were beautiful, the figures elegant as they danced among flowers that bloomed in eternal spring and never died.

  ‘I can’t see it,’ Mum said. ‘I can’t see why Alessandro thought it was so marvellous. It’s all wrong.’

  ‘Wrong?’

  ‘Venus’s eyes are on different levels, and the nymphs’ shoulders are too sloping – the anatomy’s not right. And look at Mercury’s flying boots – they’ve only got one wing between them and there should be four.’

  ‘Is there anything you do like?’ Nico asked bitterly.

  Mum pointed to the cupid above Venus’s head, blindfolded and aiming a burning arrow at the three Graces. ‘That cherub’s so hefty it’s a miracle Botticelli got it airborne, but I like it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It reminds me of you as a baby.’

  Behind Nico a passing tourist sniggered.

  Amber stopped at a shop. Jade recognised the light in her eyes. ‘We’re not going in there!’

  ‘Why not? It’s a free country.’

  Because we’re not billionaires, Jade thought. Even though Granny Grace’s trust fund had brought Mum sudden unexpected wealth after Nonno’s death, Jade worried that the legacy had gone to Amber’s head. Her allowance would be all used up if she insisted on shopping in places like this. Jade stared in horror at the simple black façade of the shop and its window display of a single shoe all spot-lit and sleek. ‘It’s too . . . exclusive.’

  ‘You’re just scared.’

  Too right she was scared. ‘Can’t I just take your photo by the window?’ Jade lifted her camera hopefully.

  ‘You’re so sad sometimes,’ Amber said and marched confidently through the sleek black door as though she shopped at Armani every day.

  Mum went on rubbishing the Primavera.

  ‘There’s hardly room for those dragons on Mercury’s wand; they’re clinging on by their claws.’

  ‘It’s not a wand, it’s a caduceus,’ Nico said, ‘and they’re snakes not dragons.’

  ‘They look like dragons.’

  ‘It’s symbolic, Mother – that’s how they painted them in those days.’

  Mum lost interest in the Primavera. ‘I want to go and see the Michelangelo paintings.’

  Though Nico wanted to keep looking at Botticelli’s masterpiece and he wasn’t that keen on Michelangelo’s paintings, he had promised the twins he’d get some information for them and Mum’s suggestion gave him an idea. ‘I’m going to the gallery shop,’ he said. ‘See you later.’

  Mum looked taken aback at being left by herself. Nico didn’t care; it was her own fault for dissing the Primavera.

  ‘Look at that!’ Amber clutched at Jade’s arm and pointed down the pedestrianised street.

  Not another shop, Jade thought. She liked shopping but not this much.

  ‘It’s Segways – they’re hiring out Segways! I’ve always wanted a go on one.’

  A young man was guarding six of the grey vehicles parked at the side of the road. Next to him, a woman was trying to persuade a pair of elderly tourists wearing inappropriate shorts to book a trip.

  ‘Florence SEGWAY excursions,’ Jade read from a sign. ‘It’s €80 for a three-hour tour. Too much and too long.’

  ‘Let’s go and ask if we can just have a quick go.’

  The twins grinned at each other and walked towards the man, chatting as they went about how nice it would be to go on a tour if only the Segways were safe.

  ‘D’you think they’re hard to ride?’ Amber said.

  The man turned and flashed a smile. ‘It’s very easy.’ He motioned for Amber to step onto the Segway and showed her how to grip the handles. ‘You lean forward to make it go, and back to make it reverse or stop.’

  ‘Is it safe?’ Jade asked.

  ‘Oh yes,’ the man said. ‘You come and try it too.’

  Jade tentatively stepped up. ‘Won’t it fall over? It’s only got two wheels.’ She hoped she wasn’t overdoing the stupidity.

  ‘No. Always it stay under you. It is very stable, very easy to ride.’

  Jade jiggled a bit, as if to test it. The man watched her intently. Amber jiggled in unison and the man practically went cross-eyed trying to watch them both. It’s going well, Jade thought happily. Amber should be ready to pounce at any moment.

  ‘What’s it like when it’s going?’ Amber asked, wide-eyed.

  ‘I show you.’ The man turned a yellow key in the ignition and the Segway whirred softly.

  The woman talking to the tourists looked up. ‘Hey, Daniele, what are you doing?’ she called in Italian.

  ‘It’s OK, Mamma,’ he called back, also in Italian. ‘I’ll convince them to take a tour, don’t worry.’

  Jade looked up at Daniele. ‘Italian sounds so lovely,’ she cooed. ‘I wish I could speak it.’

  Nico bought a selection of material on Michelangelo for Jade and Amber and some books for himself. Then he wandered through the shop, riffling idly through trays of postcards. He came across a portrait of a dark, dour-faced man who looked as if he was hiding a tragic secret. He was exactly like E. J. Holm’s descriptions of Alessandro Lupo. Nico bought the card and went back to the gallery door ready to re-visit the Primavera without having to listen to Mum’s stupid comments. The guard wouldn’t let him back in. Nico showed his ticket. It didn’t make any difference. The guard insisted that Nico had left the gallery and now he was out, that was it. Nico glowered at the guard and gave up arguing. He texted Mum to say he was going to explore and would see her later at the cafe where they were meeting James for lunch.

  Outside he climbed over a group of German students cluttering up the loggia steps and plunged into the slew of tourists. They swept him along like a piece of flotsam until he found himself in a street near the cathedral.

  Jade really enjoyed the Segway; it was a breeze to ride, like gliding around on a small stage with a scooter handle at the front. It was as quiet as a wrinkly’s electric buggy though not as dangerous because it was easy to swoop round pedestrians. Jade swept between two tourists and back again in a figure of eight. She came face to face with Nico. She ran over his foot.

  ‘Oh my God! I’m sorry, Nico!’ She leaped off the Segway. ‘You surprised me!’

  Nico hopped around clutching his foot. ‘Not as much as you surprised me.’

  Amber zoomed up. ‘You all right?’

  ‘I ran over his foot,’ Jade snapped. ‘It’s probably broken!’

  ‘No it’s not,’ Nico said. ‘Honestly.’

  ‘It doesn’t hurt because the wheels are so wide,’ Amber said. ‘It distributes the weight evenly.’

  ‘I didn’t say it didn’t hurt, I said it isn’t broken.’ Nico limped a few steps.

  Daniele ran up and glowered at Nico as if the accident was his fault. ‘There is a problem?’

  ‘No, it’s OK,’ Jade said quickly.

  ‘We need to make the list of the customers,’ Da
niele said. ‘You will pay for the tour now.’

  ‘No thanks, we’ve decided against it.’ Amber hopped off the Segway.

  ‘I say, you pay for the lesson,’ Daniele insisted.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Jade said in Italian. ‘It doesn’t say we have to on your poster.’

  Daniele took a step towards her. Nico squeezed between her and Amber and stared right in Daniele’s eyes. ‘We’re going now,’ he said.

  Daniele backed off and Jade, Amber and Nico walked off down the road leaving Daniele to explain to his mother why the girls hadn’t booked a trip after all.

  ‘How’s your foot?’ Jade asked Nico.

  ‘Killing me if you really want to know.’ Nico sat on the step of a nearby church and nursed his foot.

  ‘I’m really sorry,’ Jade said. ‘It was seeing you suddenly like that – it made me forget to stop.’

  ‘If I promise not to do it again will you promise not to run over me?’

  Jade laughed. ‘Want to come for a Coke and a slice of pizza? You can sit and rest your foot.’

  ‘No thanks, I’ve got to meet my mother and James for lunch.’ He stopped massaging his foot and stood up. ‘It’s not too bad now.’ He took a few experimental steps.

  ‘We’ve got a plan,’ Jade blurted out.

  ‘And we want to talk to you about it,’ Amber said.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘It’d help you too,’ Jade said.

  ‘OK. Why don’t you get your mum and dad to come to the restaurant we’re going to? That’ll give us a chance talk about it.’ Nico told them where the restaurant was and then walked haltingly away.

  ‘He’s not limping much now,’ Amber said. ‘I bet it’s not that bad.’

  ‘You haven’t got a heart, you’ve got a swinging brick.’

  It was true; Amber was tougher than her – that was yet another difference between them, Jade thought. Strength had its uses but sometimes a softer approach worked better. That was why she was phoning Mum and Dad now and not Amber – she’d have no problem getting her parents to do what she wanted.